


Relax

by RebaK1tten



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Although Stiles is into it, Anal Fingering, Bad Touch Peter, M/M, Massage, Massage Therapist Peter, Non-con touching, Stiles and Lydia are friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:08:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9814736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebaK1tten/pseuds/RebaK1tten
Summary: It’s nothing he’d choose for himself, but Lydia back from college agreeing to spend the day with him is a gift in itself. And she swears that a spa day is the most relaxing way to spend his birthday and it’s a treat, right?(For details on the non-con warning, see end notes.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Look, a gifset for this fic! Hopefully this will work -
> 
> http://ladypigswagon.tumblr.com/post/159594041648/steter-writers-appreciation-week-day-6-relax
> 
> Thanks to ladypigswagon on tumblr, I love this! Look at that smug Peter.

“I don’t know, Lydia, this feels weird,” Stiles says, standing outside the building.

“Oh, don’t be difficult, Stiles. You’ll enjoy this, I promise.” Lydia opens the door with one hand and with the other grabs Stiles’ arm. “Come on, this is your birthday present and you _will_ enjoy it.”

“Will there be other guys here? Not that it’s important, but…”

She rolls her eyes and says, “What, are you afraid people might see you here, having a relaxing spa day and think you’re gay? You _are_ gay, what’s the problem?”

It’s nothing he’d choose for himself, but Lydia back from college agreeing to spend the day with him is a gift in itself. And she swears that a spa day is the most relaxing way to spend his birthday and it’s a treat, right?

She takes him to her favorite spa a few miles outside of Beacon Hills. The day will be a haircut, massage and facial then someplace nice for dinner. There’s no alternatives and no arguments, she’s Lydia and she’s the queen and he’s going to go with it.

He looks around the inside of the spa where everything is white and looks clean, soft and inviting. He sees people walking around in white pants and little white jackets like they’re all doctors or something. They’re only in the lobby for a minute before there’s a glass of something in his hand and he mutters a thanks and takes a sip of something sweet and fruity and absolutely champagne. Maybe this will be okay.

The haircut goes well. He sits next to Lydia while she gets her hair cut by her usual stylist, Jason. Monica cuts his hair and it takes an hour and he doesn’t see a lot of hair being cut. At the end there’s not a lot of change, but somehow, something she does makes his hair look awesome. The shampoo and her fingers digging into his scalp is heavenly, so this is a win. Score one for Lydia.

There’s a bit of a glitch on the massages though, and Stiles stands at the side watching Lydia engage in a very animated conversation with a tall, blonde woman, who appears to be the owner or manager or something. They talk for a few minutes and finally Lydia comes back, looking calm and serene again. Which is bullshit, but he’s not going to tell her.

She huffs a bit before she says, “Okay, bit of a hiccup, but I think it’s still fine. The room where we were going to get the couple’s massage has a problem with the heat – they can’t turn it off and it’s a hundred degrees in there. They don’t think it’ll be fixed until later today. And while a warm room is good for a massage, that’s way too hot. So we’re going to be in separate rooms, but we can still get our massages at the same time, just in separate rooms. Is that okay for you?”

“Couple’s massage? We were getting a couple’s massage?” Stiles says, trying not to squeak.

“Calm down,” she says, rubbing his arm. “It only means two people in the same room; I thought you might like it since you haven’t had a massage before. And you wouldn’t have seen anything or have shown me anything. So is this going to be good with this?”

“Sure,” he says, shrugging. “I mean it won’t be any more uncomfortable than what was planned. It might actually be better. No offense.”

“None taken,” Lydia answers, looking over her shoulder at the treatment rooms. “You go there and I’ll be in here and I’ll see you in about an hour. Enjoy yourself and relax, Stiles. It’s meant to be enjoyable so try to go with it, right?”

“Sure, I’m as relaxed as mom jeans. Let’s do this!” He turns to the room next to her and there’s a man standing outside the room, small smile on his face. “Am I with you?” Stiles asks.

“You sure are,” the man says, beckoning Stiles with a quirk of his finger. “Just follow me and I’ll take care of everything.”

 

The room is small and warm, with low lights, a soft fragrance in the air and quiet new-agey kind of music playing from a phone sitting off to the side. In the middle of the room is a bed or a table, really, covered in a white blanket and white sheets.  At what’s obviously the head is a little donut-y looking thing that Stiles thinks is probably for his face.

Stiles jumps only a little when a hand lands on his shoulder. The man smiles and says, “Jumpy? Try to relax and I’ll give you a few minutes to get undressed and under the sheet, okay? Do you need anything first? Glass of water, restroom?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” Stiles nods and watches as the masseuse (massage therapist? What are they called?) leaves the room and it’s a pleasant view. He’s nice looking, maybe mid-to-late thirties with bright blue eyes and a goatee that Stiles thinks he might want to chew on. Except of course, not.

He’s currently wearing the fluffy white robe handed to them before they got their haircuts. It’s nice and comfy, roomy and belted and goes to about his shins, so he hasn’t worried about modesty. He also has little white slippers, like flip-flops but soft like terry cloth. Lydia picked the spa and she obviously knows comfort. Stiles is a little reluctant to drop his robe, but then again, it’s better than doing it in front of Lydia. He takes off the robe and slips out of his boxers, putting everything in the chair in the corner of the room. He lies down on the table, with the sheet pulled up to his neck and tries to get comfortable looking at the floor and listening to the pretty music.

There’s a quiet knock on the door and then he hears, “Good, you comfortable? Just relax, I’ll be right with you. I’m Peter, by the way.”

Stiles hears the sound of water, which must be Peter washing his hands. Peter, that’s a nice name. “I’m Stiles, hello.”

“Nice to meet you.” There’s a minute of silence with Peter standing close to Stiles’ head and Stiles turns to look at him, unsure of what’s going on. Peter smiles and says, “I’m wondering if it’s okay for me to take off my jacket while I work on you. I don’t know if you know about the room next door…”

“Oh, yeah, it’s got the heat problem, right.” Stiles shrugs as best as he can, lying on his belly. “Sure, it is kind of warm in here, go ahead.”

“Thanks, don’t tell anyone; I’m sure it’s unprofessional.” Peter takes off the white jacket, with the spa logo over the front pocket, and puts it on the back of the chair where Stiles put his robe.

Stiles gets a quick look at Peter in his thin, white tee shirt with a very deep v-neck, and quickly puts his face back down in the hole.

Suddenly there’s strong, warm hands on his back, just gently pushing down on his back, starting just below his neck and moving out. “Anything in particular you want to work on? Anything hurt?”

“Umm, not really? I don’t think so.”

“Okay, you’ll tell me if you want me to stay in an area or move or harder or softer, don’t be shy,” Peter says and keeps with the gentle rubs and pressure on Stiles’ shoulders and upper back.

“Yeah, okay, that’s nice,” Stiles mutters. “I should tell you this is my first massage – I’m a massage virgin.”

“I’ll be gentle then,” Peter says, and there’s a bit of a laugh in his voice. “Spoil you for anyone else.”

He moves away and Stiles immediately feels the loss of his warm hands and then hears a familiar noise that makes him smirk; the soft click of a bottle opening and the quiet squish of oil coming out of the bottle.

Peter moves the sheet down towards Stiles’ waist and then his hands are back, moving across Stiles’ shoulders, thumbs pressing on the side of his spine, and moving back up to his shoulders. “You’re very tense up here; work on a computer or at a desk?”

Stiles grunts a little when Peter works on a knot in his shoulder. “Umm, kind of I guess. I guess I am bent over a lot. Bent over a table.” He sighs, feeling himself blush and says, “I’m a herbologist, I make herbal remedies, so I guess I do lean over a table a lot.”

“Makes sense, I could smell something a little… lavender? Mint? It’s nice, but it does explain these knots. Try to make sure you get up and stretch every hour,” Peter says, working a little lower on Stiles’ back, pressing out another knot. “Try to relax, Stiles, this is supposed to feel good.”

“I am relaxed,” Stiles answers, wiggling a little on the table.

“Then I’d hate to see you tense. You don’t have to help, I’ll do the work. But can you take a nice breath, in through your nose and hold it… exhale through your mouth.”

Stiles obeys, recognizing the breathing from his panic attacks and from the hateful yoga class Lydia made him go to once. But it does work, at least a little and Peter goes back to his massage, rubbing down Stiles’ arms, working on the tendons above his wrist that get sore from typing on his laptop. When he rubs Stiles’ palms, and gently pulls on each finger, Stiles can’t help but let out a little moan.

“Good, you feel more relaxed,” Peter says and then he’s back on Stiles’ lower back. “Any pain here?” he asks, pushing the sheet down a little more to work down Stiles’ spine and over the top of his ass. Peter’s hands move over his hips and the outside of his thighs.

“No, not really, I guess it’s mostly the upper back,” Stiles says, very aware this attractive man is now rubbing his ass. It’s a muscle, right? And it does feel good, strong fingers, sweeping up to his waist and then back, squeezing his ass. It’s all very, very nice.

The room is quiet except for the music playing softly and the sound of Peter rubbing his hands together to heat more oil before he goes back to Stiles, moving the sheet so only one leg is covered. He kneads the muscles of Stiles’ thighs and then his calf and then moves back up to his thigh and ass.

And then… maybe he’s too relaxed, maybe he’s imagining things, but he’s pretty sure Peter’s fingers were a little farther than expected in his ass crack. And again, that really does feel like a strong, oiled finger just tracing his rim. He takes a breath and waits for Peter to go back to his back or his other leg or something, but now there’s a hand resting on the small of his back and the other hand is…yeah, that’s not an accident. His fingers are warm and well oiled and now there’s two tracing around his hole and he shudders when the tip of a finger breaches him. The hand on his back rubs in a small circle, while Peter’s fingers go still. Stiles inhales and Peter moves again, his finger moving in more, thick and hot and oh so good.

Stiles can’t help but press down on the bed, with his dick definitely on board with this. Peter’s finger moves in and out and he’s moved so his angle is better when he slides a second, oiled finger into Stiles’ ass, making him groan and grind harder against the table. He feel more oil slide between his cheeks as Peter keeps moving and then he hits Stiles’ prostate and Stiles raises his ass slightly looking for more fingers, more thrusting, more anything.

Peter doesn’t stop, hitting his sweet spot with every couple of thrusts. Stiles knows he’s whimpering and briefly thinks he really hopes the walls are thick, but then Peter twists his hand in a way that makes all other thoughts leave his head.

Without warning, Peter removes his fingers, pulls the sheet back up to his waist and whispers, “Roll over.”

Stiles tries to get his body to work and rolls over, extremely aware of his hard cock, pre-come leaking on his belly. He tries not to whine when he meets Peter’s eyes, seeing how dark and hungry they are.

Peter drags his hand up Stiles’ stomach, watching the muscles twitch, then pinches one nipple, making Stiles gasp. He smiles and moves to the other, giving it equal attention, moving between the two until Stiles is panting.

His hand moves to Stiles’ side, moving lower and pushing the sheet back down to his thighs. He takes Stiles’ leg and pulls it up so his knee is bent and resting against Peter’s stomach, exposing everything to Peter’s view.

“So beautiful,” Peter whispers, trailing his fingers down the inside of Stiles’ thigh. He barely touches his balls and then Stiles feels Peter massaging his taint, and damn that’s good.

He grips the side of the table as Peter’s free hand takes his cock and starts slowly jerking him off, never stopping the pressure by his ass. All Stiles can do is moan and raise his hips to look for more, chasing his release.

“Lovely, so lovely. Come for me, Stiles,” Peter commands and Stiles obeys, biting his lip, trying to keep quiet.

He can’t stop himself from whispering, “Peter,” as he melts into the table trying to catch his breath. He might even fall asleep for a minute because the next thing he knows is Peter with a warm cloth wiping the come off his belly and chest. Stiles watches him grin when he wipes a bit off with a finger and licks it off, following with the cloth.

“Okay, I’m going to leave you for a bit while you get your robe back on and I’ll meet you outside. I think you have a facial next, right?”

“Umm,” is all Stiles can say, still dazed from the orgasm. “Yeah, right. ‘Kay.”

Peter smiles and there’s a playful light in his eyes and Stiles wonders why he didn’t meet this guy at a bar or a coffee shop or anyplace else where he could give him his phone number.

 

After a few minutes, he leaves the massage room, back in his robe and slippers, hair slightly messier than when he went in, but he thinks he looks reasonably put together. Lydia must think so because she’s all smiles wrapped up her robe looking content.

“Facials,” Lydia tells him and raises an eyebrow when he grins. “You are such a juvenile. You’ve been doing so well, please try not to embarrass me.”

“Lead on,” he says, hoping his legs will hold him as he follows Lydia to another room where there’s another table and more white sheets and scented candles.

This time, there’s a woman named Katie who puts nice smelling creams on his face and then warm wraps. She does a little bit of painful digging on his face, but immediately soothes the spots with another lotion. He whimpers when she plucks a few hairs between his eyebrows and one she says are rogues. And since she’s promised that he won’t look ‘done’ he’ll just look clean, he lets her.

She does a little massage on the back of his neck and he still feels boneless, willing to admit that he couldn’t get more relaxed.

“You had a massage with Peter, didn’t you?” she asks.

Stiles really hopes he doesn’t smell like come, but there’s been enough creams and lotions and oils on him, that he’s almost sure he doesn’t. “Yeah, just before this.”

“He’s good, isn’t he? He’s pretty new, but he worked on my shoulders before. Guy has magic hands,” Katie says, rubbing some gentle circles on his temple as Stiles tries not to drool.

“Magic, yeah. Magic hands,” he answers, hoping his smile doesn’t say too much.

 

It’s about an hour later when they’re both fully dressed and Lydia’s at the front counter settling up for both of them. It is his birthday present after all.

“Oh good, I didn’t miss you,” a buttery voice says, and Stiles looks up and there’s Peter, back in his tidy white jacket, hair looking perfect. “I wanted to give you my card in case you want another session.” His smile is beautiful with perfect white teeth and crinkles by his eyes and Stiles thinks he might be getting hard again just looking at him.

“Thanks. Thank you, um, yes I would like to call you. Thanks,” he stammers and looks down at the card. It’s one from the spa with his name and the spa’s phone number. Next to that he’s written in another phone number. “Your number, thank you.”

“Looking forward to it,” Peter says and yeah, he looks good walking away.

 

“Ready to go? Your brows look good,” Lydia says, offering a hand to pull him off the couch. “I’m thinking sushi and a lot of sake for your birthday dinner.”

“Sounds good,” he says, looking back over his shoulder as they leave the spa.

“So this wasn’t as scary and traumatic as you thought, right? You enjoyed it?” She unlocks her car and they both get in ready to go to the restaurant.

He smiles and says, “This is the best birthday ever. The absolute best.”

**Author's Note:**

> Although Stiles is into it, there is no invitation and no conversation and certainly no enthusiastic verbal consent for Peter touching Stiles sexually during his massage. So if that might make you uncomfortable, don't read this. 
> 
> And if your massage therapist does this, alert the manager and probably the police.


End file.
